Pretties Alternate Ending
by hysteriabliss
Summary: This is based on the Pretties, Uglies, and Specials series by Scott Westerfeld. What would happen if Tally had taken the nano pill, causing severe brain damage? What would Zane and David do? R&R, please!
1. Zane

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. They are the property of Scott Westerfeld. I do not mean this fan fiction as a copyright infringement, simply as a tribute to his fabulous work.**

**Zane's POV:**

I could hardly bear to see her beautiful face lying there in the cold stone of the Rusty building. Her large eyes were closed, but even on the rare occasions that she managed to rouse herself, her perfect eyes lacked all of the intensity and confidence usually hidden there.

David, who I had heard so much about, seemed disconcerted and convinced that he loved her more. I kept him away from her...I didn't trust the way he had let her back into the city, giving herself up to the oblivion that held her now. Why couldn't it have been me lying there, nanos sucking away all of my memory? Or David, even? Either of us deserved it far more than Tally.

He entered the room on hoverboard through a shaft high in the wall. "How is she?" he asked, frustration creasing his ugly face.

"Not good. But I suppose that's to be expected." I made it clear that I blamed him for her condition in its entirety. It was, after all his fault for letting her go. I never could have done that to her.

He sighed. "Why do you blame me? I tried to stop her. She made her own decision. She's very stubborn, you know," was his lame defense. But Tally had never been stupid–I would never believe she had consented to take the pills of her own prerogative. That was the choice I had made for myself, risking everything for the sake of my own bubbliness. Tally could not have made that choice–I had to believe it was someone else's fault, someone who had forced this condition upon her.

But then, I had to factor in my own personal blame. The pills had both been for her after all. Had I not taken one, she would be awake right now, and we'd be on our way to the New Smoke, together. And I had become bubbly on my own, not really needing the pill–so I had simply caused her brain damage, without any benefits otherwise. I stared down at her motionless figure once again, and closed my eyes, trying not to think.

David sighed, and then left, hovering once again through the shaft high in the wall. I fell asleep, knowing that the Specials would be there soon, and that the rest of the Smokies and Crims would be long gone–and accepting that I would be captured.

**I hope you liked it! R&R, please! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!**


	2. David

**Disclaimer: The characters and setting of this fan fiction are the property of Scott Westerfeld, whose creative ability I come nowhere near to matching. I am simply borrowing his characters. They will go back to him, safe and sound, once I am done with them, I promise.**

**This is David's POV of what happened last chapter. **

**David's POV:**

I couldn't stand to see her lying there in his arms--his "pretty" face only inches from hers–and refused to believe that she preferred his warm grasp to mine. Sure, I had the disadvantages of never having lived in the city and had the operation, but she could hardly hold that against me, knowing full well as she did of the horrors of the lesions possessing her mind.

I flew in on my hoverboard over his head, staring down at the Rusty room from above, taking in her beauty before he noticed my presence. "How is she?" I called, as soon as I was sure I had been spotted by his large and innocent eyes.

"Not good. But I suppose that's to be expected," he sneered, and the angry vibrations in his voice caught me off guard. Sure, I was jealous of his place in her life now, but we were on the same side now. There was no reason to be mad at each other, when we both wanted her safety equally. I knew he blamed me for the lesions taking over her mind, causing brain damage as we spoke, despite the late addition of my mother's lesion-killing cure to her daily intake. She didn't seem to be responding to them as well as expected.

I let out a slow breath, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Why do you blame me? I tried to stop her. She made her own decision. She's very stubborn, you know," was all I could think to say. It was the honest truth–I had tried to make her see reason, to convince her to stay with us in the ruins, but she had insisted on going and testing the cure for Shay. Shay who was, at this very moment, probably in the city at a big bash, or sleeping off a hangover from the night before.

After reviewing her actions for a few long moments, I sighed again, and left. I needed to stop torturing myself.


End file.
